Whistles the Wind
by deliver.me
Summary: Elizabeth reflects over her life's loneliest moments. PostAWE.


Disclaimer: POTC franchise belongs to Disney.

_A/N: This is an enormously and outrageously long oneshot. It's rated T for angsty themes. Thanks to lionessrampant, my muse for this fic. Also, the title comes from a song by Flogging Molly, a band that I absolutely adore._

I remember watching the Dutchman sail away, and suddenly it was gone.

In a flash of green, the ship was gone.

It was unexpected, and I stopped breathing. I was not expecting him to be taken from me so suddenly. I _expected_ to watch the ship shrink into the distance until the tattered sails disappeared below the horizon. It never crossed my mind that he would be gone within the blink of an eye. But he was, and the realization – the finality of what was real – hit me hard. For the first time, I realized that he was gone – stolen from me before we even really had a chance to begin. Stolen from me…for ten years.

I remember dropping to my knees. I can remember feeling as if all the air had been knocked out of me, and I couldn't breathe. In all actuality, it felt as if something had sucked the very life out of my soul and that the only thing left of me was an empty shell that had crumpled on the shore. My entire body felt numb, and the waves crashed against my legs as I stared into the water. Everything was out of focus. And no matter how much I wanted them, the tears would not fall, which made my heart sink into my stomach because I could not cry over my husband.

I don't know how long I remained on my knees, but the next thing I do remember is a few men from Jack's crew lifting me out of the water and helping me into their longboat. Thinking back on the moment, I didn't even realize that the Pearl was close. I suppose I figured that they would have sailed away the day before. I can't even remember who came to pick me up. I don't recall if they said anything to me or if they said anything at all. It wouldn't have mattered because I doubt I would have heard a single word. I could barely see two feet in front of me because night had long since fallen by the time they had arrived on shore. An eerie stillness surrounded us as they rowed us back to the Pearl. The water was calm, and the only sound I remember came from the oars breaking its glassy surface. It took me a moment to realize I was holding the chest that contained his heart. Someone must have placed it in my lap. Feeling a bit guilty for forgetting about it, I gripped the cold metal tightly. I peered into the black water and saw the distorted night sky's reflection. I tore my eyes from the scene below to the stars above me. There were hundreds of them twinkling brightly above the boat. The moon was no where to be found, but those stars…they haunted me. The way their light flickered in the sky seemed to mock my loss. Suddenly, I remembered the nights we spent in Port Royal gazing at these same constellations. We would lie on our backs and count the stars when they appeared as the sun set in the evening. Being children, the game wouldn't last long because our attention spans didn't have the patience to wait for more than thirty to appear before we'd run off to find something else to get into. I felt a lump form in my throat for the first time that day and had to close my eyes, lest those traitorous stars cause me to break down in front of the men rowing me towards Jack's ship.

My eyes remained closed until I felt someone's hand tighten around my upper arm. The sailor pulled me into a standing position, and I realized we had finally made it to the Pearl. I refused to relinquish the chest and awkwardly climbed onto the deck and stared at the worn wooden planks, doing my best to keep my eyes away from those unforgivable stars. I never looked up, even when I felt a large hand on my shoulder guiding me across the deck. Whoever it belonged to steered me into Jack's empty cabin. I looked around the room nostalgically, thinking of all the times we had spent in this area over the years. It wasn't until the man behind me spoke that I realized who had led me here.

"Cap'n says you can use his quarters," Gibbs said softly. There was a pause, and then he added, "If you need anything…Let us know, Miss Elizabeth."

When he closed the door, I made my way towards the bunk and dropped myself onto it. The lump in my throat felt as if it had grown to the size of an apple, and I was relieved when the tears finally came. A tremendous grief washed over me, and I was thankful for the sobs that wracked my body. I was finally able to mourn the loss of my husband. The guilt that had emerged when I was unable to cry dissolved as hot tears streamed down my face.

The next thing I remember was hearing a knock on the door. I struggled to open my eyes, but I had difficulty because they were so swollen. It took my mind a few seconds to realize I had fallen asleep the night before, and it was now morning. His heart's metal prison was hugged tight against my body. There was another knock and then a pause before the door opened. I kept my back turned away from the door as Gibbs explained he was leaving some food for me to eat on the navigational table. As quickly as he came in, he was gone, leaving me by myself once again. I didn't feel in the mood to eat, so I cried myself to sleep. This routine continued for days. Gibbs would come in and replace the uneaten plate of food with something new and leave without a word. I would wake long enough to hear him enter and leave, then cry myself to sleep. Sleep provided my only comfort. I was too exhausted to dream, and when I slept, there was no possible way I could wallow in my despair. So I stayed on Jack's bunk and never got up.

I didn't keep track of the number of days that passed before the routine was broken. One morning I awoke to the sound of the cabin's door opening. I heard the plate of food being set on the table, but the person did not leave. I closed my eyes in an attempt to fall asleep, but my visitor's voice surprised me.

"Elizabeth," Jack spoke quietly, "you should eat something."

There was something strange about the tone of his voice, and it startled me. He sounded…worried. And in all of the years that I had known Jack, that moment was the only time I could ever remember hearing him sound sincerely concerned about someone other than himself. Because of this, I turned around to face him. When he saw me, his eyes widened in shock, and it had occurred to me then, that I probably looked horrendous, as I had not been out of bed in days.

"Gibbs has informed me that you've not been eating."

I remained silent as I looked at the floor.

"Elizabeth, you have to eat. You're going to get sick if you don't. I'm sorry for what's happened, I truly am, but…I don't think he'd want to see you waste away. And neither do I."

I remember looking into his eyes through unshed tears and feeling what little was left of my heart break at the sight of his sad expression. I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and raw from not speaking for so long. Instead, I nodded weakly, and Jack took a piece of hard tack from the plate and brought it to me. He stood and watched me eat the entire piece as if he thought I wouldn't finish it if he left. When the last bite was swallowed, he said, "Finish what I've brought you. Whenever you feel up to it, we can discuss what you'd like to do…next."

Before he left, he handed the plate to me, a silent command for me to consume everything on it. I complied. Looking back on it now, I'm not sure if it was Jack's insistence or because I hadn't eaten in _days_, but I found myself feeling extremely starved. I ate everything with a ravenous hunger and fell asleep soon after. This new routine continued for a while. Jack would come in to deliver the morning and evening meal, every once in a while making sure I actually ate it. He kept silent company with me, and I was thankful for it. He patiently waited for me to give him some direction with which to take me, but I wasn't ready to face the future without Will. I never thought Jack would understand something like that, but he did. Or, at least, it seemed to me that he did.

Although the food filled my stomach, I still felt empty. One night, while I was drifting between sleep and consciousness, I began to wonder if I would ever feel like I did before Beckett interrupted our lives. _A marriage interrupted_ is what he had said to me. He was the catalyst to the chaos that followed us for the next two years. My mind wandered through everything that had happened, and the guilt that had disappeared over a week ago came back in full force. I began to regret everything I had ever done to create the rift between Will and myself. I regretted not telling him about the kiss with Jack. I regretted not spending every single second with him that I could. I regretted not telling him that I loved him more. I regretted everything I had ever hidden from him. At that moment, I would have given anything to be with him again, even my future. I remember trying to imagine my future and feeling dejected when I couldn't see anything. There was no point in returning to Port Royal. I had no one there. My father was dead – killed by Beckett. Even James was gone. I never had friends, and the people remaining in the city would probably not receive me well, especially if the East India Trading Company still had a stranglehold over the area. Technically I _was_ the one who ordered the attack on the company's fleet, and technically I _was_ the one responsible for Beckett's death. The only ones left were Jack and his crew, and though I was declared Pirate King, I didn't see myself continuing down that particular path. I considered asking Jack to take me to the Americas or even back to England, but again, there was no one there to welcome me. I would still be all alone. I would still have no future.

That was when a thought popped into my head. If I had no future, there was nothing left to lose. And then something else occurred to me, and I remembered then what Will had told me about his father. Bootstrap had been talked into servitude by Davy Jones as an alternative to death, and many sailors aboard the Dutchman had vowed such oaths while at the brink of death. I can remember feeling the wheels turn in my head as I traced the intricate patterns on the dead man's chest and how everything felt so logical, although now I realize how nonsensical and rash these ideas were. I allowed my emotional state to get the better of me and irrationally believed that I could bring him to me. I leaned down to kiss the top of the metal box. I tried to stand in my weakened state and wobbled dangerously before finally gaining my balance. As quietly as I could, I made my way to the Quarter Deck and carefully climbed on top of the railing, holding onto the nearby rigging to steady myself. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and those bloody stars were everywhere, mocking my misery once again. I gazed at the water below and thought it was odd that it was still as calm as it had been…a week before? Two weeks? I realized, then, that I had lost track of time. All of the days had melted in to a monstrous blur, and I wasn't sure how long it had been since I had last seen Will – since we had said goodbye. It seemed like it was only the day before, yet at the same time, it felt like an eternity. It's strange, really, how time is so fickle. After a few minutes' thought, I realized that none of that mattered. It no longer mattered how long we had been apart because soon, we would be together again. The only thing I had to concern myself with was _not dying_. I had to make sure I was able to survive in the water long enough for him to find me.

I remember feeling my stomach flutter with nervousness. I suppose it was actually insane anticipation. I wasn't thinking clearly, but at the time, nothing could have been _clearer_. I was going to see my husband again in a matter of hours, and then we'd be able to sail the seas together for the rest of our lives – the rest of eternity if we chose to. I remember closing my eyes and picturing him in front of me, silently calling for him, to let him know I would be with him soon. I remember taking a deep breath and stretching out my left foot and leaning forward. I screamed when I felt a pair of strong arms grab my waist and yank me backwards. The intruder and I landed hard on the Quarter Deck, and I scrambled to my feet in order to glare at the man keeping me from Will, only to find Jack Sparrow glaring back at me, sprawled on the deck. His reaction, let alone his actually being awake at this time of night, startled me. He looked furious as he stood.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed.

"What are you doing, Jack?"

"Apparently I'm stopping you from meeting an unfortunate – and highly unnecessary – death."

I continued to stare at him, trying to keep my angry expression as I felt a strong annoyance overtake the emotion of shock. It was my opinion at the time that he had gotten involved in something that didn't concern him, and it irritated me to no end. He began to lecture me, then, and his words fell upon deaf ears, as I refused to acknowledge anything he said, which, I'm sure, aggravated him as well. As his tirade kept going, I furiously looked away, trying to focus my frustration elsewhere. I was so concentrated on my own annoyance that his voice dissipated into a low mumble, and after a few minutes, he must have realized that I was no longer paying attention to him.

"Elizabeth! Are you even listening to me?"

The way he said those words snapped me back to the present. He had sounded exactly like my father. And how many times had my father had to say something like that to me? Too many. Before I knew what was happening, I felt tears sliding down my cheeks. It was in that instant that it dawned on me exactly what I had been attempting to do. Jack walked towards me to grab my arm and began to steer me back to his cabin. It didn't take long for us to descend the stairs and soon, I found myself back on his bunk with him looming in front of me. And once again, I found myself unable to look him in the eyes.

"Can I trust you to _not_ leave this room while I get you something to calm yourself, or do I need to assign someone to keep a watch over you so you don't pull something like that again?"

I realized he didn't mean to sound harsh, but his question made me cry even harder. I heard him sigh, and the next time he spoke, his tone was softer.

"You'll be alright. I'll…I'll be right back, Elizabeth."

He turned away quickly and shut the door behind him. I was considering trying to sleep, but I heard a muffled conversation taking place outside the cabin. I recognized Mr. Gibbs' voice asking Jack what had happened. I couldn't hear everything that was being said, but I could tell they were discussing what to do with me. Eventually their voices faded, and I was relieved. A few minutes passed, and I heard their footsteps getting close to the door. I didn't move when it opened. Instead, I looked at them and saw that they had brought some food and rum to presumably make me feel better. I can laugh about it now because they were doing the only thing they knew how to do in order help a friend who was not feeling well. I remember Jack nervously approaching, extending a large bottle of his finest rum towards me. I shook my head and managed to squeak out a _no thank you_. He shrugged and sat down on a chair shoved into the corner of the room, nursing the rejected bottle. Gibbs set the plate of food on a table and pushed it towards the bed before sitting beside me.

"Hungry?"

I shook my head.

"Jack told me what happened. Do you need anything?"

I shook my head for the third time that evening.

He paused, and I could tell he felt uncomfortable. I glanced at him and noticed that he looked as if he were struggling to find the right words to say to me. I looked at Jack, who was studying us, and I felt a small amount of pity for these men. I had just tried to jump overboard, and they were doing their best to comfort me. It was very clear that they had no idea what they were doing. I offered both of them a small smile and said, "Thank you. I'm fine."

"I don't think you are."

Gibbs' comment caught me off guard. He had the same look of concern that I had seen on Jack a few days before. I knew that they had a justifiable reason to be worried, but I didn't want to risk the chance of feeling guilty about it. I began picking at the plate of food he had brought for me, secretly hoping that they would leave soon, and I was not expecting to hear the speech that followed.

"Everyone on board knows you're stuck in a right painful situation," Gibbs said. "We just wanted you to know that it hurts us too. We all knew him, and we all know you. I've known both of you for over twelve years now, Elizabeth. That's why we're concerned. We don't want you to do something rash."

I could feel the tears stinging my eyes as he continued, "The Cap'n and I have been talking, and we think it might do you some good to busy yourself on the ship, so as not to dwell on your grief."

"I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a bloody burden."

I knew he didn't mean for it to sound funny, but I couldn't help but laugh at the frustration in Jack's voice. I was sure that he had not dealt with very many overly emotional women. He frowned at my laughter and Gibbs' kept talking.

"You should come out on deck in the morning, even if it's just to get some fresh air."

"Thank you, Gibbs. That sounds lovely. I will. I promise."

He nodded and stood to leave. When Jack did not follow him, he stopped to wait.

"Have you decided where you want us to take you?" Jack asked.

I thought for a moment. Earlier that evening, I considered asking him to drop me off in some other country, but after recent events, I realized that Jack and his crew were the only family I had left, and I wasn't ready to leave them yet. I remember hesitating before answering his question because I was afraid he wouldn't like what I was about to ask.

"Do you…Do you think it would be alright if I stayed aboard the Pearl for a while? I don't have anywhere else to go."

He didn't give me an immediate answer, but before I could get nervous, he curtly nodded and walked out of the door with Gibbs. I fell asleep that night feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of me. For the first time since Will had left, it seemed as if things were going to be okay.

I woke up late in the morning, and my muscles felt stiff and achy. I figured that staying on Jack's bunk for so long had finally taken its toll on my body. I stood and stretched for about a minute. It felt great. I looked outside, and the sky was absolutely beautiful. The first genuine smile in days broke across my face as I walked towards the door leading to the deck. Various crew members greeted me as I walked past them. I nodded and reciprocated their hellos, amazed that I hadn't been outside earlier. I felt ridiculous for isolating myself for so long. I didn't realize how long it had actually been until Marty made a comment about not seeing me for two and a half weeks. I remember feeling even more ridiculous then. Walking around the ship made my sore muscles feel better, and I soon found myself working alongside the men that had become as close as brothers over the past few years. We worked mostly in silence, probably because they weren't really sure what to say, but it was all well with me. I realized how much I missed feeling useful, and I vowed not to lock myself away in misery any longer. I also realized that Will would not want me to wallow in grief, and the promise I made to myself was also directed towards him, even if he would never know about it. By the time the afternoon arrived, I felt extremely tired. My back began to hurt and my muscles began to scream in protest once again. Gibbs must have seen me wince and came over to talk to me.

"It's good to see you out, but I think you should rest for a bit."

"I'm fine. I just have to get back into a routine."

He eyed me warily but left me alone, and I continued to work under the cloudless sky. After another hour, I began to feel overheated, and suddenly, I felt very nauseous. I remember trying to close my eyes and force the feeling away, but it didn't work. I flung myself towards the edge of the ship and violently retched overboard. I could feel some of the crew's eyes on me, and I felt embarrassed about my seasickness because I had not experienced any since the crossing from England. Someone must have sent for him because moments later Jack was at my side, trying to convince me to lie down.

"I'm fine, Jack. Really. I don't know what happened. I'll be alright."

"No, I think you've done enough today."

"I'm not a child, Jack!" I didn't mean to raise my voice, but his insistence began to grate against my nerves.

"No, but you are extremely pale and probably about to get sick all over the deck, and I'm putting a stop to it. Mr. Cotton! Bring some water to my cabin."

He pulled me away and began to drag me towards his cabin, and though I was too weak to resist his physical strength, I said, "Please don't take me back inside. Can I just…stay out here? Please?"

Jack frowned at me and changed our direction. He made me sit on the stairs leading to the Quarter Deck and motioned Cotton over to us. "Make sure that she stays hydrated," he said as he walked away.

I stayed there for the rest of the day, watching the crew laugh and lounge about the ship. The longer I sat, the more tired I felt. It wasn't a sleepy tired but more of an exhausted tired. I remember thinking that Jack was right, and that when I woke up the next day, I would start off at a slower pace. I went to sleep early that evening, even though a few of the men had invited me below deck to partake in their nightly festivities of rum drinking and singing. I politely declined their offer and explained to a few of them that I wasn't sure when I would feel like having rum again, but as soon as I did, I would inform them immediately.

I slept well again and enjoyed the deep sleep, but when I woke up I noticed my skin felt very warm, in addition to my body still feeling very sore. I groaned at the thought of becoming sick, and decided to rest for most of the day, which Jack did not seem to mind. Over the next week, the symptoms of an impending illness continued, and I refrained from working too much on deck. I would wander aimlessly, and I often caught myself staring at the horizon while thinking about Will and wondering how he was doing and if he was wondering the same about me.

Weeks passed, and my fatigue grew worse. I was thankful that the bouts of seasickness were rare, as I had only experienced two other episodes since that first morning out on deck. I found myself taking more breaks during the daylight hours because I felt extremely exhausted. It began to take a toll on the rest of my body, as well as my emotional state, and try as they might, the crew couldn't find anything to cheer me up. I remember feeling deeply depressed at feeling so depressed all of the time. I couldn't sit still for very long because my head would begin to hurt, but I couldn't work or walk around for very long either because I would get too tired or achy. Sleeping provided no escape because I often slept fitfully, never being able to get comfortable. One morning, as I tried washing, I discovered that my breasts felt incredibly sore. They hurt when I tried dressing, and I grimaced every time I moved my arms. I remember thinking that I must have slept on them the previous night. It was the only explanation that made sense. After a few hours of discomfort, I tried gently rubbing them to see if it would help and was caught by Jack, who quirked an eye at me and left before I could explain myself. His reaction irritated me, and I stayed in a foul mood for the rest of the day.

I became extremely dizzy the next morning, and Gibbs had to help me sit down. He stayed with me until I felt better, but over the next couple of days my vertigo continued. I couldn't understand what was wrong with me, and I became very frightened at times, some days being worse than others. I remember holding the chest containing Will's heart one evening, thinking about everything that had happened and how much my life had changed in less than four years. I was worrying about my health and whether or not I should stay on the ship if it began to deteriorate. I remember crying when I thought about Will and how much I wished he was there with me, even if there was nothing he could have done to make me physically feel better. I started counting back to the day I last saw him and realized that a little over two months had already passed. I felt better when I thought about how quickly the time had gone by and wondered if the entire ten years we were to be apart would pass just as quickly. I remember how abruptly the thought struck me when I thought about those two months. _Two months had passed since I last saw him…Two months had passed since we…_

My breath caught in my throat, my palms grew sweaty against the metal chest, and a wave of nausea washed over me. Everything that I had been experiencing began to come into focus. Suddenly, the reason I was experiencing all of these sickness symptoms became very clear, and I had a feeling that they would all become more bearable now that I understood why they were there. I _had_ noticed when my last two cycles never came, but I attributed their absence to the stress I had been experiencing. It never occurred to me before that moment that I could be carrying Will's child. _Our child_.

I began to sob quietly, not wanting to bring attention to myself. I wasn't ready to share my suspicions with anyone. This was something I had dreamt about since I was young – since I had fallen in love with Will. I wept because I was overwhelmed. I wept because I was happy. I wept because I didn't know what I was going to do. I wept because I had no idea how to raise a child, let alone by myself. I wept because Will would not be with me. I wept because Will would not know that he was a father. I wept because it was all too much.

The sense of dread I expected to fill me was not present when I woke up the next morning. A feeling of relief was there instead. It took me a moment to figure out what my emotions were doing, and I remember feeling very happy. I was excited because I would no longer be spending the next ten years alone. I would have someone to keep me busy for the rest of my life, and I would have the best surprise Will could ever hope for when he returned. I contemplated when I should inform the crew of the new circumstances, and I couldn't decide whether a ship-wide announcement would be more appropriate than a more subdued individual revelation. I ultimately decided that I would tell a select few that day and allow the word to spread on its own, which I was convinced wouldn't take long. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I knew I wanted to tell Jack first. Looking back on it now, I suppose it's because Jack was the reason I had the chance to conceive in the first place. He _was_ the one that had saved Will's life.

There was an extra bounce in my step as I searched for him. It didn't take long to find him due to the heated argument I overheard him having with Captain Barbossa on the Quarter Deck. I ascended the stairs slowly, and when they came into view, I could see that they were seated at a makeshift table constructed of barrels and planks with Sao Feng's charts resting between them. I approached the pair slowly, amused with their shouting match over how to interpret the map and whether or not they saw a route to some fountain of eternal life. I stopped a short distance from them and grinned widely as they continued, both oblivious to my presence. Barbossa was the first to notice me.

"Hector! I'm not finished talking with…" Jack trailed off when he realized the other captain's attention was focused elsewhere. He followed his gaze to me and cocked his head. "Elizabeth. You seem rather…unexpectedly…elated."

"That's because I am, Jack."

The two stared at me curiously for a moment as I continued to smile. Barbossa broke the silence. "And why might that be, Mrs. Turner?"

Jack interrupted before I had a chance to answer. "Can this not wait until later?"

I remember feeling my happiness falter slightly at the sound of his irritation. "But I have something to tell you."

He sighed and nodded, silently giving me permission to continue. I could tell he wanted to get back to discussing the next route to take with Barbossa instead of talking to an overly emotional woman, but he was indulging me, and for that I was grateful.

"I think I know why I've been feeling so ill lately." I was hoping they would involve themselves in my little questioning game. They already seemed bored of my presence, but I ignored them. I had always loved guessing games as a child. To my delight, Barbossa took the bait.

"What reason be that?"

I took a deep breath before revealing my secret. "I think I'm pregnant."

I'm not really sure what I had been expecting. Perhaps I wanted them to jump out of their seats with joy, or maybe they could have laughed and smiled with me, or maybe they could have said a simple, "Congratulations." Whatever I had been expecting was not what I received. Both of the captains' expressions turned to stone, and they stared at me unblinkingly. Jack's mouth opened just enough to cause his lips to separate, but he said nothing to me. I felt my face relax as I waited for a response, but none ever came.

"Jack?"

Neither of the men moved when I spoke. I looked around uncomfortably, hoping that someone else would help me in my predicament. The crew continued working, and I assumed none had heard the confession. When I looked back to the men sitting at the makeshift table, I felt a lump rise in my throat, as they still had not moved. It was only when I began to leave that one of them addressed me.

"Pregnant, you say?" Jack asked.

I clenched my jaw to keep the tears of disappointment from falling as I turned to face him. Barbossa continued to look shocked, and Jack seemed nervous. I nodded. He continued to look at me, but I could tell he was weighing options inside his head. Without taking his eyes off of me, he called, "Mr. Gibbs!"

A moment later, I heard the heavy footsteps of his first mate thunder up the stairs to where we were standing. He was slightly out of breath when he answered, "Aye, Cap'n?"

"We have a situation on our hands," Jack said, still staring at me with his eyebrows quirked.

I remember glaring at him and feeling anger begin to boil inside me as he addressed my joyous discovery as _a situation_.

"Sir?" Gibbs looked from his captain to me and back again, confusion etched on his face.

"It would seem that our very own Elizabeth Turner is…with child."

Gibbs' eyes snapped to mine, and the expression on his face was all too familiar to me by now. Disbelievingly, I took in the three men in front of me, all giving me the wide-eyed flabbergasted stare. I remember feeling extremely self-conscious in the silence that followed. To defend myself, I asked as forcefully as I could, "What?"

Gibbs swallowed hard, looking somewhat embarrassed. Barbossa finally looked away and began to busy himself with turning the rings of Sao Feng's charts. Jack still seemed nervous, and he was the only one who spoke.

"When can we expect the worst?"

His question had caught me off guard. "I'm not dying, Jack!" Finally deciding that I would not be receiving any support from anyone on board, I stalked away, making my way down the stairs and stopping beside the railing on the starboard side. Small tears fell onto the banister, and I tried to calm down by staring at the horizon. I berated myself for not expecting any insensitivity from a group of pirates, but before I could begin feeling overwhelmed, I felt someone move beside me. I looked to my left and saw Ragetti giving me a small smile. He nodded in greeting and looked into the water below. I said nothing and turned back to stare at my fixated point on the horizon.

"Congratulations."

The sound of his voice startled me but not as much as what he had said.

"Beg pardon?"

He looked at me once again. "I overheard your conversation. I jus' wanted to gives you my congratulations."

I thanked him quietly, silently grateful for at least some acknowledgement of my new _situation_. I had expected him to return to work, but he stayed beside me in silence for a few minutes before speaking again.

"I 'ad a daughter…before I started sailing, o' course."

I was shocked and had no idea how to respond. My face must have given me away because he smiled.

"Don' look like much, I know. I was married once. Less than a year before we 'ad her. I even got to see the birth. I say see it, but I suppose a better description would be to say I delivered her. But that was a long time ago, that was."

He smiled again, as if remembering his previous life. Curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn't help but ask, "Where are they now?"

His smile became sad as he said, "They died."

I felt my heart sink for the man. "I'm sorry."

"She wasn't even two months old before she caught pneumonia. My wife grew sick a few weeks later. Since I didn' have nothin' left, I hopped on the closest ship and…here I am."

"What was her name? Their names, I should say."

"My wife's was Hannah. Our daughter's was Anne."

"Those are beautiful names."

He nodded in appreciation, and we found ourselves surrounded by silence once again, with the exception of the ocean's waves breaking against the bow of the ship. It never occurred to me that these men I had grown so accustomed to being around everyday might have a family somewhere. In Ragetti's case, his family was gone, and it saddened me. Nevertheless, I was thankful that he had shared his life with me, as it allowed me to realize these men still had a sense of humanity with them, and I considered the possibility that his background was probably the reason he was the one that was successful in freeing Calypso. My thoughts were interrupted when someone else appeared at my right side. It was Gibbs, and he looked remorseful.

"My apologies, Miss Elizabeth. You probably weren't expecting silence to greet your news."

"No, I wasn't," I replied coldly. I felt my ill mood return despite the warm conversation I had just shared with the pirate on my left.

"You have to understand something about pirates. You see, it's a priority of ours to steer clear of anything involving…babies. It's likely that few on this ship, if any, have had any direct experience with…small children, so you'll have to forgive us for the discomfort."

Apparently I was the only one aware of Ragetti's past, and I figured he must have his reasons for keeping it to himself, so I didn't bother to correct Gibbs' assumption. Instead, I whispered, "I'll leave the ship the next time we make port so you won't have to feel awkward any longer than necessary."

He winced at my words and immediately responded. "Cap'n says you can stay on board until you decide where you'd like to go."

"I have no where to go."

"Then stay."

I turned around and saw Jack standing behind me with a curious glint in his eye. I couldn't recognize his expression, but I no longer felt angry with him.

"I was under the impression that babies were unwelcome sights to pirates."

"I'm sure we can find exception to the rule…your majesty."

He gave me a mock bow, and I laughed, already feeling light-hearted again. He and Gibbs left without another word, and I turned back to the one-eyed pirate beside me.

He smiled at me again and said, "I'm not a smart man, but I 'ave more advice to offer than the rest of this lot on board…if you ever need it."

As I expected, the crew avoided me like the plague once they discovered my _situation_. They kept a respectable distance away from me. In the beginning, it bothered me, but it didn't take me long before I got used to the uncomfortable glances they gave. It was lonely at times, but whenever I felt sad, it seemed as if Jack, Gibbs, or Ragetti always had something to cheer me up. The crew slowly grew accustomed to the idea of having a pregnant woman on board, and a few of them even whittled small toys for the baby. They were crude wooden figures, but I treasured every one of them because it was all that I had. There were times I grew incredibly distressed. This happened often when I thought of Will. It was during these moments when I became doubtful and scared. Never in my entire life had I even been within ten feet of a newborn, let alone cared for one. I wasn't sure how I was going to manage raising the child on my own, and I cried because I was going to _be_ alone for the next nine and a half years. But it didn't take me long to come out of my sadness because I would remember that I had a purpose again. Raising our child gave me a new purpose, and I wanted to practice staying strong for him or her.

One night, Jack and I discussed what would happen when the time came for me to give birth, and we decided it would probably be best for me to deliver on land, rather than the ship. He promised to take me to a respectable port where I could receive medical attention, and when I felt well enough, we could set sail once again. Though he never would admit it to me, I knew that he cared about my welfare, as well as the baby's. Unfortunately, our plans were ruined when I began labor a month earlier than expected.

I remember leisurely walking around on deck, enjoying the warm breeze blowing across the port side. I was in a fantastic mood that morning, and when I felt my abdomen tighten, I groaned because I didn't want to feel sick on such a fine day. I was used to the false signs of contractions. Ragetti had eased my fears when I first began experiencing them, and I figured that I was going through the same thing that morning. I continued walking, hoping that the pain would disappear, but after an hour, when I realized the waves of discomfort hadn't stopped and had actually begun to get stronger, it occurred to me that I might actually be experiencing labor pains. I had just decided to sit down to calm my racing heart when I felt a warm fluid trickle down my legs. At first, I thought I had lost control of my bladder, but I soon realized I was mistaken. Frantically, I looked around to try and figure out what I was supposed to do. That's when the first real contraction hit me, and I had to kneel on the deck to keep from falling over. The pain wasn't overwhelming, but it was definitely uncomfortable. I waited until it was over before I stood and starting looking for Jack. I found him in his cabin, perusing his nautical charts. When I entered, he looked at me and immediately sensed that something was happening.

"What–"

"Jack, I think I'm…I think the baby's coming."

His eyes widened, and he appeared more nervous than I had ever seen him. He stood still, struggling to figure out what to do.

"Jack!"

When he heard his name, he hurried towards me and stuck his head outside, calling for Gibbs. When the other man arrived, Jack told him what was happening, and the two stood there looking as if they were having difficulty deciding what to do next. Another contraction arrived, and I had to sit down. I asked for Gibbs to find Ragetti, and he left, leaving me alone with Jack, who looked extremely discomfited. I could feel sweat beginning to form on my forehead, and I leaned against the cabin wall to take the pressure off my lower back. It wasn't much longer before Gibbs came back with Ragetti behind him. The one eyed man told Gibbs to fetch some fresh water and kneeled beside me.

"Looks like we 'ave to get you ready. You should stay in 'ere."

"What?"

I didn't think it was possible, but Jack's eyes got even bigger at the suggestion of me giving birth inside his cabin.

"We're supposed to take her to land! Not on the Pearl! Not in my _cabin_!" he exclaimed, clearly out of his environment.

"I didn't choose for this to happen, Jack! It's not like I had a choice in the matter!" I didn't mean to yell, but the contraction I was experiencing was the strongest one I had felt so far. Jack looked helpless, so I gave him permission to leave, and he quickly vacated the room.

Gibbs returned with the water, and Ragetti told him to stay nearby in case he needed him to retrieve anything. I don't think the older man was particularly keen on the idea, but he nodded and said he would be waiting outside. I remember feeling panicky and afraid that I would be left alone.

"Are you leaving me?"

"No. Unless, o' course, you don' want me in 'ere."

"I don't know what I'm doing. Are you…Do you think you could…" Another wave of pain hit me, and I grimaced.

"I ain't done this but once."

"It's more than…anyone else!"

Over the next few minutes, he maneuvered me into a more comfortable position and removed my clothes in preparation for the impending birth. He continuously apologized for my nakedness but thankfully ceased all apologies when I yelled at him to stop. I could feel my abdomen getting tighter, and the pain became more intense. He tried to keep me occupied by talking and keeping my forehead cool with the water Gibbs had brought in, but as time wore on, nothing worked. That was when I knew it was almost time to deliver. I became delirious after a few minutes of fierce contractions. The desire to have Will nearby consumed me, and I began asking for him. Try as he might, Ragetti could not convince me that Will was not on board, and I continued to ask him to have someone call him in. I suppose he became exasperated and called Gibbs inside. I don't remember what was said, but soon, I found myself resting against him while Ragetti moved around to prepare to deliver my child.

I remember feeling an overwhelming urge to push, and I clenched my jaw as I did so. The room felt stuffy and hot, and everything became blurry as sweat poured into my eyes. It felt like I had pushed for hours, and the baby still had not come. My energy was gone, and I felt like giving up. I must have said something because the two men began to encourage me the best they could, although I could tell Gibbs would have rather been anywhere than where he was. Looking back on it, I'm sure Ragetti wasn't too pleased with the situation either. Regardless of their desire to be in another place, the kind words they had for me were enough to remind me to press on.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally felt the pressure slip away, and soon after, a baby's cry filled the room, nearly drowning Ragetti's voice as he said, "A son! You's got a son!"

I felt immensely relieved and began crying. Ragetti tried to wipe the blood and mucus from my son as much as he could before handing him to me. I remember looking into the wrinkled face that was screaming at me and holding him close, unbelieving that I was actually a mother and that I was holding my child. The child I had created with Will. I continued to cry with my son, feeling extremely joyful and saddened at the same time. It was a strange feeling, something I had never experienced before, but my son had made all of my previous tribulations worth it. The men waited for my body to expel the last remnants of my pregnancy before helping me stand with my baby still in my arms. I allowed Ragetti to take him away from me to wrap him in a bundle of material he had managed to find inside Jack's cabin as I tried cleaning myself with the rest of the water Gibbs had brought in a few hours before. After dressing myself, Gibbs led me to Jack's bunk, where I propped myself against the wall before having my son handed back to me. Gibbs left to inform the crew we were doing well as Ragetti did his best to clean the area I had just occupied. After he finished, he left, leaving me alone with my child for the first time.

By then, he was sleeping soundly, letting me know I wasn't the only one exhausted from the labor. I studied his tiny face, and I remember wondering whether he would resemble his father and secretly hoping that he would. He had a very small amount of hair that was darker than mine, but not as dark as Will's, and I carefully smoothed it with my hand. I had never held a baby before, but something about holding my child felt very natural. I leaned down to kiss his forehead and reveled in the softness of his skin. As strange as it sounds to me now, I realized I had not spent much time during my pregnancy thinking about names, but from the moment I saw my little boy, I knew I wanted to name him after his father. It might have been selfish of me, wishing for a reminder that Will was coming back to me, but no other name seemed appropriate. And so, I held little William Turner in my arms for the rest of the evening.

I didn't have any visitors until the next morning, and it was only Jack and a few of the crew I had grown close to who came to see me. All of them – Jack, Gibbs, Cotton, Marty, Pintel, Ragetti, and even Barbossa – crowded into the room, though none of them seemed eager to hold my son, and I smiled at their apprehensiveness. I stayed on the Pearl for a few more weeks before deciding that I didn't want to raise my son on a ship. Jack and his crew helped me settle into a new home on the outskirts of Port Royal and didn't set sail until they felt confident that I would be okay. But I knew that I would be fine, now that I had a daily reminder of the love I shared with my husband and the new love I had discovered for my son.

* * *

The loneliness I've felt throughout my life has come and gone. It was intense when Will left me after our day on the beach, and it was terribly agonizing at times while I raised William before he came back to us. It lessened considerably when he finally returned and was practically nonexistent for years afterward. We lived happily, and I wouldn't have traded our life for all the riches in the world. William was finally able to get close to his father, and Will was always there to look after him and teach our son everything he needed to know in order to live a purposeful life. I can see so much of his father in him now. Will taught him well, and I'm proud of the man he's become. He's just like his father.

I've come to realize that life is a series of phases that fade in and out, and I've learned to take most of them in stride, keeping in mind that things usually do work themselves out in the end. And now, I'm faced with another one of these phases, and I've got to come to terms with it. Prior loneliness was always bearable after I realized Will would be coming back to me. Now, I have to learn how to proceed with life now that he's gone forever. In the back of our minds, we realize life doesn't continue on this earth for eternity, but it never seems real until you're forced to confront death. And I've dealt with death many times before. I've killed men, taking their lives in order to protect myself, my friends, and my family. I've watched countless others die. But when someone close to you passes on – someone you never expect to ever leave you again – the pain becomes unbearable, and the loneliness creeps into your soul, and you feel as if there's no hope. I've felt this way before…When he left me the first time. I couldn't understand how I would manage to survive with him gone, but I did. For ten years, I lived without him. And thankfully, we were able to spend twenty-two years together after he completed his duty. Deep down, I know that life carries on, but lately, it's been so hard to remember that essential truth. He's only been gone for a week, but already it's felt more like ten years, and I keep expecting to see him walk through our door with his half-smile and a handful of wildflowers for me, but I know that no matter how much I wish for it to be true, he's not coming back to me.

William has been by to see me everyday since he passed, bringing his small children to put a smile on my face and to keep me busy, I suppose. I realize now that keeping busy kept me sane aboard the Pearl so long ago, and when he comes to see me today, I'll kiss him and thank him for taking care of me. With his help, I know I can continue to stay strong because I know in my heart that Will would not want me to waste away. And I know that this life I have is too precious to allow it to slip away. He taught me that during the time we were together, and I'll honor that gift for the rest of my time on earth.


End file.
